


The Long Road Home

by htfrjolenz



Series: The Adventures and Perils of Davy Jones [1]
Category: The Monkees
Genre: Anal Sex, Drama, Fluff, M/M, Male Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htfrjolenz/pseuds/htfrjolenz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(The Monkees are as they were in 1966 in this saga but this is an altered reality story, it takes place in modern times and certain facts have been changed to create the plot and environment.)</p><p>Summary:<br/>18-year-old orphan David Jones is running away for his life from a cruel guardian who would have him only for his money. Kidnapped along the way by a man who would like be his lover, he goes through dramatic changes in the way he views love, and how and with whom he could experience it. Desperately in need of rescue, enter our boys The Monkees. Our heroes come to save the day, with a lovesick Micky catching Davy's eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first crack at anything of this nature so please, be kind!

                                                                                  

   The morning sun blew in through the open window on the salty breeze and scattered droplets of golden glitter across the small, neat room. It danced across the light paisley quilt and up the wall beyond, pausing to tickle at the lush eyelashes of the sleeping figure. Coaxing and pleading, the way an early June sunbeam does, to come and play - to bathe one leisurely in its warming, lemony sweetness.

   The smells of the house joined this pleasant and unusual morning symphony of beckoning, from somewhere below the scents of freshly brewed coffee, salty bacon and fluffy pancakes drifted through the rooms of the house. They were carried on the backs of fairies giggling and twittering at their delightful prank, to the sensitive nasal passages of the sleeping boy.

   The lovely cacophony of scents and sensations was stirring the angelic looking boy beneath his covers, drawing on his keen senses, slowly rousing him from the blissful sleep of the innocent naïveté of childhood. He wriggled and stretched, two small fists reaching to rub the sleep from his chocolate brown eyes. The sweet faced boy, at that perfect age of sheer beauty that comes from within and claims no gender, yawned and stretched again, his toes peeking just from the hem of his blanket as he did.

   "Davy," he heard his mum call from below, "breakfast luv."

   He eagerly threw back his blanket swung his legs over the side of the bed and landed both of his feet …

   "Right in a pile of _dog shit_!"

   Davy cursed under his breath, grabbing the newspaper that he'd been using as a makeshift blanket and proceeded to clean his shoes.

        ( _Dreaming again_ ) he thought wistfully. (Just _once_ , why can't I make it down to breakfast?)

   He leaned against the back of the park bench and blew out a heavy breath. Mindlessly raking a hand through his hair, he took quick note of the climbing sun and realized it was time to get moving. Gathering his backpacks and his resolve (and his rapidly depleting energy), he stood and walked toward the road in search of a discreet place to freshen up - and with any luck find something to eat.

              ( ** _HAFTA_ ** keep moving Jones) he urged himself

             (you absolutely _CANNOT_ let him find you again …. Not after what happened the _last time_ )

                                                                                      *****

   "Hey Tony - _Tone_."

   "Mm?”

   "C'mon man wake _up_ \- he's on the move again"

   Startled from the reverie of sleep Tony snapped-to and jumped to his feet. Shaking off the fuzzy remnants of the nap, he tugged into his boots and went to the crusty lime-scaled sink.

   "You're _certain_?" He gurgled, splashing cold water and rubbing it thoroughly about his face. Blindly he patted his way to the towel to dry off.

   "How long?"

   Stuffing his wallet into his pocket, he grabbed his keys and cell.

   "Bout five minutes ... “

   " _Damn.._ can't afford for him to get out of reach Rob, I told you the _MINUTE_ he stirs -"

   "Sorry Tony … but he's right here around the corner …. "

   Shrugging into his jacket and tossing the motel key on the desk he shot his companion a look of fierceness and contempt so unlike himself.

   "He'd _better_ be," he said stonily and they walked out the door.  
                                                                                        *****

   Feeling fresher but still running on empty Davy emerged from the dingy restroom in back of the gas station with a renewed bit of vigor. The cool fall air was crisp and pleasant, even in the small tree-shaded, obscured alley. He stopped a moment to look over his map and determine the best way to go with or without the luxury of hitching a ride. Caution was his middle name - anonymity his new game - if he were to survive, to truly escape. Having selected his routes of choice, he gently rolled his map and stuffed it into his backpack. Starting toward the street he'd only managed about eight steps when someone called to him.

   "Excuse me, couldn't help notice you had a map with you - I'm a little turned around, could you point me to the highway?"

   Always thinking of others and trying to be kind, Davy wanted to help the fellow - a young man about his tender age - who was standing by a brown box van. A moment of silence passed as the young Brit considered:

          ( _Could_ be okay.. _might_ even snag a ride.. or a couple a crackers)

   Making a loud ' _brrroarrr_ ' sound his stomach made the final call. He strode over to the van and reaching for his map spoke brightly.  
  
   "Sure thing, which way ya headed?"

   "Need highway eleven," the other man said, slowly stepping to Davy's right, a well-placed hand, appearing to shade the man's eyes from the sun erased any discomfort this brought to Davy's radar.

   Glancing at the map for a moment the fellow took one more step to the right, and almost moving the two in a circular motion, stopped when Davy's back was to the van's side door.

   "You want eleven east or west?" Davy asked, genuinely interested.

   "West the man said with a slight smile and nod."

   "That's _great_!" Davy said exuberantly, "I'm trying to make my way west," Davy began in earnest, not noticing the van door quietly slide open.

   "Is there any way I could hitch a ri-"

_**KLOOOONNGGG!** _

   The sound reverberated for a split second through Davy's head, a spray of white sparkles dancing briefly before his eyes. As his legs folded beneath him spilling him to the ground, the lights went out for the little Englishman.

                                                                                       *****

   "What're we gonna do now Mike?" Peter asked, his chin in his palms.

   "I dunno Shotgun. Haven't had much chance to think on it yet really. Rudy just quit this mornin' n unless we come up with a replacement soon we're gonna hafta find real jobs just to pay the rent."

   "Well at least we can finish our last three shows at the B52," Micky chimed in, " Rudy wasn't supposed to be there for those anyway. What'd he have to go n get _married_ for?"

   "True that, " Mike answered, "and I have no idea. At least we can get some real food in here. Another few days of popcorn soup n I'll be eatin’ my _hat_."

   "You said the soup was _good_ Michael." Peter pouted.

   A grin erupted to split Micky's face. The slim, smooth-drawling Texan across the table from him answered it with a discreet and theatrical roll of his eyes. He stood and swung a long leg over the back of his chair and patted his sad friend on the shoulders comfortingly.

   "It _was_ Pete - just wish you'd **_popped_** the corn first though. Still, three days in a row.. monotony is the _pits_."

   "But I thought you supported one to one relationships Mike?" Pete said, a puzzled look on his face.

   Mike held his face in his hands and shook his head.

   "That's mo _nog_ amy Peter." Micky intoned.

   "What does dark wood have to do with relationships Micky?" Pete mused.

   "Come on out of the woods babe!" Mike groaned at his cotton headed friend.

   "So have you thought about any good replacements for Rudy Mike?" Micky offered.

   "Tain't gonna be easy. Rudy was our pretty boy - our _face -_ and man did the chicks go for his looks - and that Jersey accent. We need someone else like him to make things pop."

   The three boys sighed, with their heads planted at different angles on a palm or two contemplating the future of their band: _The Banana Heads_.

                                                                                       *****

   Nicky sat in the room quietly reading by the window, now and then gazing over at his charge. He felt a great deal of relief when the man had regained some color and his breathing evened into that of a heavy sleep.

          (But _GOD_ he's _**beautiful**_!) He thought for the tenth time.

   Once more, he made a mental observation of the physical charms of the enticing young man across the room: His perfect skin, gold-kist by the sun positively shimmered even in the low light. His lashes, long, dark and thick lay beneath his closed eyelids like perfect, soft silk stitches, curling at the tips, guilelessly beckoning. His hair was short and stylish, a rich cocoa-brown, the color of splendidly roasted chestnuts and seemed made of finely combed silk. The full mouth below his slightly upturned, perfect nose was so deliciously kissable it made Nicky dizzy. His soft lips, delicately parted with sleep, were moist and plump - the color of dew-kissed rosebuds - a deep rich hue that brought to mind the scent of sweet ripe plums.

   Oh! To just have a tiny taste of that ravishing delectable mouth. He knew better though - this plum was not his for the picking.

                                                                                         *****

   Robyn was fuming.

          (Little **fuck** is _GONE AGAIN_!) He snarled in his thoughts,  (Wait until I catch up with you _THIS_ time you impudent little bastard.. there will be more hell to pay than you've _ever dreamed_ possible!)

   Thumbing through his bankbook, he read quickly the current details of his well-padded private account. Smiling, he chuckled an evil little laugh as he dialed the number he'd been trying all morning to reach.

   "How kind of you Davy," he prattled aloud to himself, "to be the financial benefactor of your own undoing."

   "Yaa?" A voice said at the other end of the line.

   "Are you ready to go?" Robyn asked.

   "Are you ready to _pay_ me?" the other man asked in reply.

   Robyn looked down at the photo of Davy in his fingers and smiled a malicious smile.

   "And **_then_** some."

                                                                                       *****

   Davy was vaguely aware of a distant buzzing sound, but couldn't make out quite what it was or from where it came. He thought perhaps he'd woken a nest of bees and they were angrily humming close by, seeking justice.

          (They’re bloody near me 'ead) he thought (gonna 'ave to fix that 'fore I get meself stung)

   Though not much of a drinker, he'd had more than a hangover or two. In spite of not recalling a recent bender he felt a bit on the skids, feeling logy and weighted, he was having a time dragging himself awake.

       _(BZZZZZ)_

          (Gotta get up - **_not_** gettin’ stung. Did I fall asleep under a _tree_?)

    Turning his head just a fraction of an inch rewarded him with a quick stinging in the back of his noggin:

          ( ** _SHIT_**! Little bugger _got_ me)

   A slight moan escaped him, catching the attention of his attendant, who promptly sent a quick text message from his cell phone:

                    He's coming around!

   A moment later the silent reply was:

                    Quietly slip out ~ on my way

   Nicky quickly obeyed, never drawing the attention of his groggy-headed ward.

   Davy made a concentrated effort to lift something - _anything_. His head felt like an anvil, heavy and thick, and the rest of his body was weak somehow - like when coming out of anesthesia - leaden and sluggish. He thought it best to get his bearings before he tried to move again, more fully awake he would surely fare better. With a few flutters he opened his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the dim light of the room. Once able, he allowed himself to take in his surroundings.

   The space was fairly dark save for a bit of light coming in a high window from the moonlight. It was cool but not cold, with a clean scent that didn't reek of disinfectants. He saw a simple round clock on the wall opposite him, and a ceiling fan above: again simple but with a few pretty globes for the lights. He tried again to turn his head to take in more of the room and was hit with a searing pain behind his eyes. Snapping them quickly shut he groaned loudly. He was about to reach up to hold his head (clearly where the bees had suddenly taken up residence) when someone spoke.

   "Don't do that!"

       Davy froze.

   It wasn't Robyn, his tormentor - the _voice_ was wrong - but then, _**who**_?

          Footsteps coming nearer.

   "How do you feel?" The man asked, a firm but gentle hand laid against his forehead. He brushed a lock of hair from Davy's eyes.

   "Wh-who are you?" Davy managed to stammer.

   "Just relax a minute and let me look you over. This is going to be bright."

   Davy winced sharply and jumped as the mysterious man took hold of his eyelids and gently opened them, shining a penlight in their honey-colored depths.

   "How do you feel?" the question came again.

   "W-well, fairly like I've been kicked in me 'ead which was stuffed with a bee hive during a hangover after coming out of anesthesia. "

   The man chuckled lightly.

   "Not a shock all in all. Brace yourself - I'm going to turn on a low lamp.

                                                                                       *****

   Sitting in the sand, the waves crashing nearby, Micky contemplated the sum of his life. He knew something was missing from it but hard as he tried, couldn't nail down what it was. Of course things were a bit bleak in he and the guys' music scene, money as usual was tighter than the top of his snare drum. His love life was nothing to brag about either; not that he'd made a lot of effort lately. Sure, he'd had plenty of dates in his time and _lots_ of sex - even a brief encounter with a male friend who buttered his bread on the other side one drunken weekend.

          ( _that_ was a trip)

   Life with Mike and Pete was cool, they were like brothers the three of them, and he had a loving and supportive family. Still there was an aching void in him that he was clueless how to fill. He spent much of his time on the beach trying to fathom it all out but his reverie was broken today as Mike hollered to him from the back of the house.

" _MIIICKYYY - TELLLLEEEPHOOONNE_!"

                                                                                       *****

   Though soft, the light was a shock to Davy's eyes and made his head throb. He shadowed his face with his hand a moment till the pain began to fade and his pupils adjusted to the now-brighter room. The man walked to his side and proceeded to check his pulse.

          ( _Odd_ ) Davy thought (not _dressed_ like a Doctor - and this is like no hospital room **I've** ever seen)

       Still he waited.

   "Head hurting?" The stranger asked, pulling up a chair.

   "Actually y-yaa.. and it sounds like it's full of _bees_. Where am I? Is this a _hospital_? 'Ow did I _get_ 'ere?" Davy shot a flurry of questions. It had suddenly occurred to him he had no memory of arriving there.

   "Slow down there," the man chuckled, "don't go so fast it's going to make your head hurt more. I was in town and happened to pass by in time to be of _service_ \- someone hit you over the head and you were knocked out. I came along and.. well you needed treatment so I brought you here."

   Davy stared incredulous. The droning in his head was a little quieter so he thought hard trying to piece things together. He vaguely remembered a van …

   "So yer a _docto_ r? Thanks ever so much for your help n all.. am I gonna be _okay_ doc?"

   He took a good look at the man that had come to his rescue:

   He was tall (though to Davy most people were) perhaps five eleven, of medium build but well defined and solid, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he gestured. Dark-complected with a near olive tone, Davy guessed he was of European heritage, rather handsome, with a slight curl to his black hair. He spoke as if educated and refined, and his voice was smooth with a pleasant tone - not gruffly deep - but by no means feminine. He had large hands that looked to Davy as if they could be very powerful and dangerous and yet gentle in the same token.

   Davy's gaze again found its way to the stranger's face and he caught his breath - the man had a positively beautiful mouth!

          (How _exquisite_!).. (?? - Wait **_wha_**? - where the **fuck** did _THA'_ come from?)

   He looked up to realize the man was looking him dead in the face, watching his bold appraisal. The faint smile he wore gave Davy a shiver.

   "To answer your questions, no I'm not a doctor - a fair medical knowledge but _no_. This is my home and we've been nursing you back to health. Tell me, what is your name?"

   The cautious little beast that really ran the show up top raised its head and growled low in its throat. Davy took note, and swallowing a nervous lump he croaked out "D _-David_ …. "

   "Very nice to meet you David - I am Tony, Martinelli. I hope you're comfortable, " he paused here, appearing to consider something, "I really need to take a look under your bandages and see how your head is coming along. "

   Swiftly and before Davy could move or object Tony was on his feet, unwrapping a thick gauze bandage from around the top of his head.

   "Stay very still," he instructed.

   Davy obeyed, hands calmly at his sides he barely took a breath. A coolness came upon him as the last of the bandages came unwound. He wondered why but waited quietly.

   "It’s coming along nicely," Tony told him, a little bit of fresh blood but, the stitches are holding and for the most part the swelling is gone."

         (! _stitches? **Swelling?!**_ **BLOOD**!)

   Davy felt a lick of panic well up inside of him, Tony caught it right off and quickly laid it to rest.

   "Calm down he said in his mesmerizing silky tone, "As I said it's healing very well. Another few days and you can be up and about.. get to know the house. "

   Davy blinked at him, confused.

   "Beg pardon?" He choked out, the panic growing into a twitch.

   "Tell me David - what were you _running_ from that day?"

          ( _TWITCH_ )

   "Who _me_? N-not running from _eh-any_ thin' "he stammered, "N wha 'bout gettin ta know ya _house_? Whas' _at_ all about?"

   "Wow," Tony chuckled, "your accent thickens when you're nervous, doesn't it! This will be your room until you're back on your feet. When you're up to it, we'll move you down to the _second_ floor, with me - You suddenly look very thirsty - some water?" he asked evenly.

   The panicky little twitch was now growing wings. Davy looked to the door and knew he was too wobbly to get to it before Tony. He had to think, to calm down and attempt to reason this out.

   "I-i-its aw-awfully _k-kind_ of you t-to offer me shelter mistah -"

" _Tony_ ," he interrupted.

   "T-Tony," Davy stuttered, "B-but honestly I don' _need_ to stay here. I'm on my way erm _south_ ," he lied, "n really I feel m- _much_ better now. Sh-should be getting on, _really_."

   He peeled the blanket back and attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

       (!!)

   His right ankle was cuffed to the bottom right column of the four-poster bed!

          (The twitchy little panic bird was now a shrieking pterodactyl)

   "What the _FUCK_?"

   Jerking his leg hard Davy struggled to free himself, managing only to scrape and bruise his ankle. Hopping off the bed on one foot he tried with all his might to pull the shackle free from the post but the heavy chain was merciless and unbending, the solid oak post unforgiving as well. In his terrified struggle to free himself, Davy had momentarily forgotten his captor, the larger man sneaking up on him, grabbing him from behind. His arm felt like an iron bar over both of Davy's and he seemed to be holding the wildly bucking bronco in his vice-like grip with no effort.

   "You need to calm down David and let me explain - calm down or I'll have to sedate you. I _really_ don't want it to be like this."

   Davy struggled with all the ferocity he could muster and could barely move his tightly-muscled, wiry body in the grasp of his aggressor.

   "Please, _no_!" Davy pleaded finally, still squirming, "Why, _WHY_ are you _DOING THIS_ to me?? **_PLEASE_** let me go!"

   With a final surge of self-saving desperation, he tried to buck backwards kicking off from the bed with his free foot - forgetting the nasty mess on the back of his head and connecting it squarely with the taller man’s collarbone.

          _**(BZZZZZZZZZ)**_

       (Forgot the _bloody bees_ ) he thought dimly, and losing his balance sank into Tony's lap.

   Through blurred vision he saw the syringe from the corner of his eye but was to dizzy to struggle any further.

   " _Please_ don't," he pleaded once more eyeing the menacing cylinder.

   "It's going to be okay kiddo, it's just something to help you sleep." Tony cooed softly into his ear.

   He plunged the needle in, emptying its contents into the muscle of his upper arm. His eyes sagging shut Davy slumped over - unconscious, he was lost to the world once more.

                                                                                        *****

   Brutal Larson drove away from the beach house with a satisfaction he hadn't felt in some time. Aside from his own efforts, which were being well rewarded, he had a friend or acquaintance on every beach along the southwest coast on the lookout for his target. Not that any of his promises of a _piece of the pie_ were worth a plug nickel - but hell, _they_ didn't know that. The ' _little slug_ ' as he referred to him would be in his hands in no time, as would the rest of the ten grand he'd been promised.

          (And if Robyn don't come through with the _cash_ \- well I'll just have me a new _play_ mate to keep around the house till he _does_ … heh-heh)

                                                                                         *****

   Micky sat on the bottom step of the spiral staircase that led up to his room. He could not stop staring into the spellbinding gaze of the young man in the photo Brutal had given him - a runaway whose guardian was desperate to find - and return to his loving home. Something about the boy in the picture captivated him and he couldn't seem to break the spell.

          (He is just freaking - _beautiful!)_

   Micky was never bashful about beauty: He could find it in a girl, a guy - heck even a _skyscrape_ r. It didn't take any skin off to admit to anyone what he saw, and this boy-man had transfixed his very soul. His heart knocked around in his chest cavity like a bird trapped in a chimney. He knew that despite the hundred-dollar reward - if he _did_ come across this David Jones - he was unlikely to turn him over to Brutal. Without knowing what he was sending him back to, he just couldn't take the risk. In his heart, Micky knew that this young man was in trouble, and that he'd run away for a good reason.

                                                                                       *****

   Davy awoke to the night sky in the window, and the house was hushed enough to hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. Though still foggy with sleep, without looking around or hearing a sound, he _knew_ he was not alone.

   "Welcome back."

       ( _Shit_ )

   "You want to try to talk now? Or _listen_?"

   Davy didn't speak - didn't move.

   "I brought you a tray of dinner and something to drink."

          (BRRROOARRR)

          ( _Traitor!_ ) Davy cursed his empty stomach.

   Tony came to his bedside and helped him into a sitting position, packing pillows behind him for extra support. He sat on the bed across from him, quite casually, as if they were old friends. The two men considered one another for a few minutes, and finally, Davy had to speak up.

   "I.. I'm.. really _confused_. You rescue me, bring me 'ere and put me on the mend: it seems so.. _benevolent_."

   Tony nodded acknowledgment, absorbing the finely articulated words of the younger man. Davy continued.

   "Yet, I discover m'self bound to this bed, my 'ead full of bees n yer tellin me I'm to _stay_ when I'm well - _like it or **not**?_ I politely decline and ya knock me out with a needle - and I **HATE** needles by the way. _WHA'_ is goin' _on?”_

   "The buzzing will gradually go away, it's from your knock on the head. You didn't exactly bow and bid me adieu, you went berserk, tried to jerk yourself free, fought with me and busted _two stitches_ trying to head-butt me."

       Davy squirmed.

   "As for your living arrangements, it's not an offer - _nor_ is it a request. _Benevolent?_ Basically. Charity _no_. Optional - _**definitely not**_."

   Trembling inside, Davy threw the pterodactyl a bone, and ventured forth.

   "B-but.. _why_?" he squeaked.

   "You're _REALLY_ dry David.. drink some water. "

   "No, thanks." Davy eyed the glass suspiciously: he indeed was thirsty.

   "Ok, _trust_ first: I'll drink the first half."

   Tony tipped the tall glass in a steady flow, downing his half in one drink. Handing it to Davy, he said rather unceremoniously,

   "Leap of _faith_ David?"

   His throat ached he was so parched. Warily he took the glass and wagered a tiny sip. No odor, no odd taste. He slugged back the rest so quickly he barely felt it in his mouth. Tony refilled the glass from the stoneware pitcher and Davy drank again.

   "Now. To put this simply, I want you. _Here_ , with **me**. I know you're a runaway David; I have been watching you for some time. I knew the first time I saw you I _had_ to have you. I'll treat you well, and you'll never _want_ for anything. But unless I tire of you, which _isn't_ likely, you _**cannot** _ leave."

   Davy was panicking again. He still didn't fully understand what this man wanted from him, which prevented him from any logical argument against it.

   "Why? _Why_ d'ya want me 'ere? I'd be a _lousy_ houseboy, clumsy oaf I am, I'd break all yer good China n rot. Not much comp'ny either - _honest_ guv'nuh I'd bore ya to _tears_!"

   "That's not what I want from you." Tony said calmly.

   Baffled, Davy scrubbed at his chin.

   "Well.. fer _what_ then?"

   Tony smiled at him, gazing at his sweet face, still plump with earnest youth.

   "David, I want you to be my companion, and eventually my _lover_. I adore everything about you, and I _have_ to have you for my own. "

   Eyes like saucers Davy felt the room tilt. His stomach lurched and he felt vaguely green. Then, he became angry.

   "What the - what're ya a flaming _shirt-lifter?_ **Bugger orf** you bloody _nance_ or I'll -"

   "You'll what?" Tony interjected, "Beat me _up_?" He giggled, "Going to _run off_ David?" he taunted, lifting the covers to show both ankles now firmly shackled to the bed.

   Davy winced.

   "Are you going to shout out this attic window for the _police_ or the casual passerby my little _run_ away?"

   Now near to tears, Davy was desperate, scrambling to find the right words.

   "Look man - "

   " _ **Tony**_!" he insisted.

   Davy took a breath.

" _Tony_. I. _Don't_. **_Swing_**. **THAT**. Way."

   Tony looked at his own hands calmly folded in his lap. For a minute, Davy thought he may have gotten it in, gotten through to the man who would make of him a love-slave. Looking into his eyes Tony smiled genuinely and spoke simply.

   "You _will_."

   He stood, placing a tray of food and a glass of red wine in front of Davy. Stroking his cheek once lightly, Tony left the room, locking the door behind him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

       Robyn was in a rage.

   Brutal had no luck so far and he was losing patience. Davy had been very careful this time not to leave behind any clues as to where he was headed. Robyn ransacked his tiny room searching for anything - a scrap of paper, a phone number - any notes the little troublemaker may have made for himself in making his latest plan.

       Nothing.  
    " _GrrrRRRRAAAGGHH_ YOU LITTLE **FREAK** WHERE _ARE YOU_?!" He roared.  
    He snatched Davy's desk chair and venting his rage smashed it against the wall. The wooden seat split, exploding into splinters, exposing a hidden compartment underneath. A litter of papers and a small brightly-colored poster rained down onto the worn faded rug. Robyn's face split with a satisfied, wicked grin.  
    " _Gotcha_!"  
    Every bit of it - posters, ads, magazine clippings and postcards - was about Malibu Beach California.

   "Micky man yer gonna _hafta stop_ this, you are absolutely too _hung up_ on this kid," Mike said, patting his friends slumped shoulder.  
    "Wha- _huh_?" Micky choked out nervously, "whatta you mean?" He asked, tucking the photo into his shirt pocket.  
Mike sighed. He knew he had to come clean with his friend and ease his conscience, and knew just how he could - risky and difficult or not.  
    "Stay put babe, I'll be right back." Mike said decidedly, and stepped into the beach house. He walked slowly but purposefully straight to Peter, who was on the floor in a particularly knotty yoga pose.  
        ( _Wow_!) Mike thought to himself (Could he _GET_ anymore gorgeous?)  
    Not wanting to startle his young partner, he gently laid a single finger on Pete's shoulder and cleared his throat softly. Peter eased his arms down from their peculiar position and opened his beautiful, doe eyes. He cracked a soft smile as his secret lover knelt down beside him caressing his cheek. These carefully stolen, tender moments between them were few and far between, and therefore very special. For Micky's sake, they had kept their special relationship hidden - until the time was right. Unless they were alone, it was business as usual.  
    "Hello Michael," Peter cooed at the Texan, a sultry smile on his lips, allure in his eyes.  
Boldly, Mike placed a kiss on his full lips, tasting his mouth and inhaling the scent of shampoo that clung to his golden hair. A twinge of panicked pleasure in his soulful eyes, Peter looked to his man in a passion-dazed confusion.  
    "Micky is right outside … "  
    In spite of his registered concerns, Peter tangled two fingers in the silky dark hair hanging over Mike’s forehead.  
    "Cotton," a pet name he'd given his lover (you are so soft - from your big fluffy heart to your silky white skin!) "babe, it's _time_."  
    Tall and slender in his denim and plaid, the sexy side-burned-brunette stood and reached a hand out to his giddy, dreamy-eyed smiling partner. They walked out to the back where Micky still sat, melancholy and brooding, and perched side by side on the balcony railing. Micky threw a rock out onto the sand and looked up at them.  
    "I understand what's drivin ya babe, better than ya _think_ I do," Mike began.  
    "You've been unhappy for a long time now n well even if _you_ cain't reckon out why, I b'leave _I_ have."  
Micky swallowed a lump in his throat, internally noting the truth in his friend's words. They'd been pals for a long time - had lived together for more than two years of that. They knew each other fairly well and he took Mike's thoughts as sound, brotherly advice. He had no idea where this was leading or what was coming next, but it would change his life forever.  
  
    "Pete n me we - well we've kept us a lil ole _secret_ man.. but all things bein what they are, its time fer you to know. We wanted to protect you from it, but I really think now it may bring you some comfort, some _inner peace_."  
    Bewildered, Micky looked up at his comrades. Mike took Peter by the hand and Peter looked knowingly into his lover's eyes.  
The tender yet passionate kiss they shared boldly in front of the stunned drummer brought him slowly, on watery knees, to his bare feet. They parted their lips and held a longing smoky gaze between them for only a moment's time, and turned to their gaping friend. Micky could only stare.  
    "We've been a couple," Mike said easily, so relieved to say it aloud to someone, "for almost a year."  
Micky blinked and nodded briefly, closing his mouth as not to appear rude, or shocked at their revelation.  
    "It hasn't changed the dynamics of our music Mick and it never will. Our friendship with you will always be there and the same - like a _brother_. "  
    Peter nodded in agreement.  
   "I've watched you go through date after date, relationship after relationship - it never works out and you're miserable. Then this little fella comes along - just a name n a face - a lil back-story - and you're .. _different_. You're not sleeping n eatin cuz all yer doin' is starin’ into his eyes in a photograph."  
   The realization of what Mike was suggesting hit Micky full on. He began to speak, to deny the notion - but with a feeling that was at once a slap in the face and outright relief, he sank back down on the stoop with his face in his hands. After a moment, he spoke.  
    ".. God Mike," he squeaked out, "you're _right_. But what can I _do_ about it? I've never met him, and even if I _do_ , look at this _face_!" he said, shoving his prized snapshot in front of the pair. Peter took the photo and let a short breath escape him.  
    "He's breathtaking Micky - like an _angel_! So perfect and well, like a cherub."  
    Micky smiled and nodded his head.  
    "I know! But - that **face**! Every girl on the California _coast_ has to _want_ him - and **_half of the guys_**.." he trailed off.  
    "Doesn't mean he wouldn't - couldn't love _you_ Micky," Peter spoke softly, " Love is about two people - _any_ two people - who find each other so beautiful, inside and out, that they _have_ to be with each other regardless of what anyone thinks or what the risks are."  
   Peter's words, so heartfelt and true, brought a glimmer of hope to Micky's heart and tears to his eyes.  
    "So _now_ what?" Micky asked with a sigh.  
    "Now," Mike said intently, "We _find_ him."  
                                                                                       *****  
    Davy sat quietly in his room. Considering his circumstances once again; he saw few reasonable options. Kept in an attic room he could hardly jump to the yard below, and the only door remained constantly locked. He was free now to move about the room during the day, but nighttime brought the dreaded shackles and he was again chained to the bed. Tony had been truthful in a respect - he'd been very generous with Davy in bringing him anything he'd asked for - books, a CD player, pen and paper to draw or write with - and a deck of cards were all occupying his plentiful time. Though his thoughts often drifted at night when the shackles went on and the lights went out, and he mused to himself about the hardships and fateful turns his life had taken. No pity - just a meandering of the hurts and twisted course of events that somehow led him to his current predicament.  
    He had had a sweet life as a young child, and a happy home with loving, doting parents. Born and raised in Manchester, in northwest England, he'd lived a fine life, not wealthy but by no means poor. He was taught of love, kindness and grace, right and justice, generosity and acceptance. He had one sibling, a brother fourteen months his senior. He loved school and was a quick and eager learner. Both boys were encouraged to explore their world and any personal interests and talents. Cold weather or warm Davy loved to be outside. He loved animals and nature, to swim, and play in the sun or snow. He adored music and comical schtick, and was quite a talented singer and dancer even at a tender age. He and his brother Nicholas were inseparable, and their close-knit family was a model image that so many envied.  
        Until his seventh birthday.  
           ( _All **my** fault_ ) He thought for the thousandth time.  
    The circus was in town. For Davy's birthday, his parents bought tickets for the whole family to attend. He was so excited, dazzled by the lights, music and bustle of live entertainment - something everyone was certain was a part of his future. The carefully choreographed performances and sparkly costumes drew him like honeybees to a flowery garden. Dinner in his favorite restaurant preceded the show, fish and chips and the best root beer anywhere. His father indulged him and Nicholas both that night with whatever they desired: Cotton candy, popcorn, roasted peanuts, ginger ale and enormous lollies that would surely last them each a month. A ride on the back of the soft-eyed giant, Birdie the elephant, topped off the amazing birthday fun. Satiated, Nicholas slumped half asleep in the back seat as the tired family left for home. Ever energized, young David startled his brother awake with a shout.  
    "Ice cream father, ice cream! _Please_?"  
    A tired smile passed between his parents in the front seat. Glancing at his watch his father spoke up.  
    "Tis well past your _bedtime_ lad - tomorrow _per'aps_?"  
    "Oh father _please_? Tomorrow won't be me _birthday_ anymore - the ice cream won't even **taste** as good then." He cajoled.  
    Harry Jones had two sons of whom he was so very proud. They we're very good, obedient boys who sought to please their parents. With a wistful sigh, young David's father smiled at his son the mirror and nodded lightly.  
           ( _NOOO_ )  
    Davy screamed in his head at the memory.  
           (DON'T _TURN_! I _DON'T WANT_ ICE CREAM _ **ANYMORE**_!)  
    He willed the painful images to go away, for the now-silent film in his head to stop playing but it was too late. It would finish its solemn and relentless footage and he was powerless to stop it:  
                     They turned the corner where the ice cream parlor sat two blocks down, happy laughter  
                  bouncing around the car. Nicholas and David in the backseat naming off their flavor choices,  
                  mom and dad in the front smiling at the simple things that pleased their young sons.  
                         One block to go.  
                     The green light was in their favor and they proceeded to cross the intersection.  
                  (Please, no) Davy thought in his bed, tears coursing down his cheeks.  
                    The rest of the scene came to him in slow motion: the screeching tires - the rain on the  
                 windshield that began to patter only moments before. His father jerking his head suddenly  
                 to the left, throwing a protective arm across his mother. Grinding, twisting metal.

   **_Breaking glass_**.  
        _CRUNCH_.  
            **_Screaming_**.  
        Screaming that seemed to be in that very room.  
    And as always, it was; it was coming from Davy's own anguished mouth. Moments later, Tony hurried into the room, turning on the lamp and dropping to his knees beside the bed. Fear and concern etched his handsome features.  
    "David! Kiddo, I'm here - _what_ -?"  
    Before he could finish the question burning on his lips, Davy buried his tear-streaked face in Tony's chest and sobbed. Wordlessly, Tony crawled into the bed beside him. He laid the smaller man's head on his shoulder and stroked his sweet-smelling chocolate colored hair. Assuming he'd had a nightmare, he tried desperately to calm and soothe him, stroking his hair and whispering soft, calming words.  
    "Shhh. I've got you, you're _safe_ now. You'll **_always_** be safe as long as I'm around David."  
In spite of the awkward situation of the other man's designs for him, for the first time in years Davy _DID_ feel safe - and able to let out the pain. He snuggled in closer against Tony, letting him enfold him in strong, protective arms, and cried himself to sleep.  
                                                                                       *****  
                                                          **WARNING: VERY SEXUALLY GRAPHIC!**  
  
    That night for the first time Mike and Peter slept together in the same bed with Micky asleep upstairs. Holding each other close, passion burned between them as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Feeling free for the first time to make love to each other with Micky at home, they were eager to satisfy the animal urges that drove them in the moment.  
    Mike lay with his body pressed against Peter's, face-to-face, kissing and nuzzling his neck and ear. His nimble hands hungrily explored his partner's body, stroking his thighs, caressing his smooth stomach and rubbing tiny circles around the hard pink peaks of his nipples. Peter arched his back with pleasure responding to Mike's teasing touch and probing lips, as he agonizingly worked his way down his lover's naked body. Electric kisses and thrilling traces from Mike's skilled tongue down Peter's plentiful happy trail nearly sent him tumbling immediately over the edge.  
    "Oh _GOD_ Michael!" he moaned thickly.  
    Mike paused long enough to grin up at Peter's passion-drunk face, and with a naughty grin took his already pulsing shaft into his hot, wet mouth. Peter groaned in appreciation, unable to form coherent words. Skillfully working his lover's tool, he made long, slow strokes, taking him deeply into the silky depths of his throat. Gently probing into Peter's eager backside he quickly found his sweet spot, stroking it in rhythm with his sucking, stoking his partners mounting fire. Gasping in ecstasy, Peter lurched upward calling Mike's name, clawing at his bare shoulders. A few flicks of his tongue along the underside of the throbbing head drawing Peter nearer to the point of no return.  
Peter threw his head back onto the pillows and cried out.  
    "Michael _stop_!"  
        He immediately obeyed.  
    As Peter lay breathless, Mike came to his knees and keeping his partner's gaze, lubed his own throbbing erection. He lay on the belly of his blond lover and kissed him with fervor.  
    " _Take me_ Mike," Peter whispered huskily.  
    "Happy to oblige."  
    Mike leaned back and thrust his member into Peter's waiting rectum. Wincing at the initial surge of pain Peter bit his lip, but as Mike found his rhythm pure bliss came and the moment turned to moonlight and starbursts.  
    The energy between them was visceral, their groans of pleasure in total sync. They rocked their bodies in perfect time with one another. Knowing his lover only too well, Mike knew Peter was close to epiphany. He took his lover's fully erect penis in hand, and fucking him hard pumped him to climax.  
    "Oh _GAA_ - **Michael - _YES_** _!_ "  
    Seeing his partner come undone drove Mike's own feverish desire. Burying his shaft in the heated depths of Peter's body, he came with a shudder, biting down on a freckled shoulder to muffle his cry of passion. The two men lay briefly, a tangle of sweaty, love-weakened limbs. Taking a moment only to clean themselves a bit, they lay together the rest of the night sleeping fitfully in each other's arms.  
                                                                                       *****  
    Davy awoke to find himself alone. The remnants of last night’s flashback fresh in his mind, he shivered briefly. His shackles removed for the day, he crossed to the adjoining bathroom to wash his face and have a piss. The cool water felt good, breathing a bit of life back into the boyish young man. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, remembering how he had turned to his captor in his moment of intense pain. A stab of shame ran through him at the memory, a slight homophobic tremor knowing he'd wept in the arms of the man who wanted to take him like a six-dollar hooker. He combed through his unruly mop of hair and dressed for the day.  
    Back in his room, he sat at the side table and stared out the dormer window. All he could see was the sky and some treetops, but it was comforting to know the world still existed outside of his prison. He was relieved that he came awake, as he'd gone to sleep, very much the un-impaled heterosexual he hoped to stay. Footsteps in the hall and a quick glance at the clock told him breakfast was coming: Three days awake and his stomach had won over - he had finally stopped throwing his meals across the room. To his surprise, the food was quite tasty and most thankfully untainted.  
    Tony turned the key in the old-fashioned lock and came in with his tray. Smiling brightly, he greeted him with genuine   friendliness.  
   "Morning sunshine," his admirer beamed, "feeling better? "  
    Davy nodded and mumbled.  
   "Yes, thanks. Good morning."  
        ( _Conversation_!) Tony marveled.  
    He set the tray on the table and took the chair opposite his young captive.  
    Davy was famished. He wasted no time lifting the lid from his plate and was pleasantly surprised to find a marvelous meal before him: Blueberry muffins, scrambled eggs, crisply cooked bacon, fresh tomato slices, a tall, cold glass of orange juice and a steaming cup of tea.  
    "W _ow_!" He said, tickled to have so many favorites in front of him, "This looks _incredible -_ _thank_ you!"  
    "Glad to hear it," Tony replied, "as I get to know what you better, I can cook you more of what you like."  
    Davy nodded weakly. He wasn't hoping to be there that long. He dug into his meal with enthusiasm, partly from hunger - mostly to avoid Tony's gaze.  
    "Nightmare?" Tony asked bluntly.  
    Davy paused with his fork mid-air. Half-asleep and unprepared he blurted his reply.  
    " _Flashback_."  
    Not expecting his response, Tony sat silently, thinking of the heartbreaking scene he came into the night before.  
           (Poor _kid_ \- what could _possibly_ have happened to bring him to _such a state_!)  
    "I'm sorry David. Whatever it was, I'm _truly_ sorry."  
    The sincerity in his voice and the care in his eyes told Davy he meant it. He gave him a genuine smile and a nod, a silent gesture of thanks.  
    "S'ok.. s'been over _ten years_ now. Just every now n again - "  
    "I understand," Tony interrupted, " I have my own.. recollections - that I'd just as soon _never_ resurfaced. But life never does you that way. If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"  
    Davy closed his eyes. He'd only told his story to one other person, **Robyn**.  
           ( _Dumb_ mistake!)  
    Somehow, though, he knew that the man in front of him wouldn't ridicule or blame him. Perhaps he would not punish him for his unforgivable, selfish crime. Maybe - _just maybe_ \- he would simply listen. Taking a deep breath, Davy ventured everything.  
    "Well … it was me _seventh birthday_ , ya see …."


	3. Chapter 3

   "You blathering _idiot_!”  
   Robin was in a serious lather.

   "What do you mean you can't _bloody_ find him?"  
  "I've been _ALL_ over the southern coastline, and followed every lead I've gotten and I got _nothing_! It's like the kid just _**vanished**_!" Brutal defended himself.  
   "I've bloody shelled out over two thousand dollars already you _fucking tosser_ , this whole thing has gone balls up!"  
   "Well gas ain't free and it ain't cheap.. neither is information. "  
   "Information? What _blasted_ information might that be? That you can't find yer own arse with both hands and a big mirror? I'm giving you three more days to have something solid Brutal or the deal is _off_ \- I'll find the sneaky little slag my damn self!"  
                                                                                       *****  
   Davy and Tony were still talking in the small attic room. They'd shared a few stories with each other, asking questions and commiserating.  
   "So," Tony asked him, "exactly _how old_ are you David?"  
   "I'm almost nineteen. "  
   "You look younger than that.. _good to hear_ though"  
   They were communicating well all things considered and Tony was eager to try to bond with his young detainee. Sympathy and patience his weapons of choice he stepped up his game.  
  "Tell me something David," he said softly, placing his hand over the younger man's hand, "you mentioned that your guardian was rather - _unkind_ at times - is _that_ why you were running away? What was he doing to you kiddo?"  
   "... _He.._ that is - "  
   Davy fumbled to find the right words. Comfortable now that he could speak freely with his new housemate, he wanted to speak the truth in the best way possible.  
   "Well, I've told you that the British Imperial Magistrate insisted I 'ave a guardian till I'm twenty-five. It's because my grandfather had left a bitta money. Since I had never been adopted ahftah the accident, Robyn became my guardian and trustee over my estate. It became clear early on 'e was only in it for the money. I thought for a while I was really a bad kid ya know. He was always cross with me n locking me in my room. S-sometimes he wouldn't _f-feed_ me, then the _**beatings**_ stahrted."  
   The genuine pain in Tony's eyes was obvious to Davy. It was comforting to know that somebody, _anybody_ cared.  
   "I finally realized I wasn't really doing anythin' wrong n that 'e was just a sick, twisted bloke. I tried fighting back once.. he beat me unconscious and locked me in a closet for a week. No food or water - was pissin on meself. I became quite the obedient lad right then. Was a month later I ran away for the first time, I was fourteen."  
   Davy looked up and was shocked to see that Tony was in tears.  
   "Why are you crying? You don't even _know_ me!"  
   " David I -"  
   " _Davy_. Please, call me Davy."  
   "Davy," Tony smiled, "I _adore_ you. I have been watching you for months - up close and from a distance. I've seen you with that jerk guardian and walking alone in Patriots park. Coming and going from the Burton Barr Library - you captivated me the _very first time_ I saw you. You looked sad and lonely, lost and aching inside for somebody to love you, to _need_ you. I fell for you and knew I had to make you mine - to show you _MY_ world and all the acceptance and tenderness inside of it."  
    Davy sat staring at the man who would make of his life a change so shattering to everything he'd been taught, every moral fiber in his being, baffled and bemused. Tony came and knelt in front of him, continuing with a great zeal.  
    "Davy, imagine a love with someone who accepts you _totally_. One who would deny you nothing and hold you through _every storm_ life brings. A love of _passion_ and romance, laughter and respect - a mutual understanding of basic human desires and the capacity to fulfill them **_all_** \- with no shame or regret."  
    Davy's heart pounded in his chest at the nearness of this man and his fiery speech. He was lost for words and unable to break away from Tony's smoldering gaze.  
    "Are you a virgin Davy?" He asked, placing both palms on the youth's trembling knees.  
    "Huh, ' _ardly_!" Davy said with a derisive laugh.  
    "So you know what it is to make love. To give of yourself to another - to _pleasure_ that person, and allow them the joy of doing the same in return. "  
    Davy nodded, his breath coming in short, heavy pants in spite of himself.  
    "Imagine being in a world where you're blind and deaf - where nobody could taint your mind in any direction about _who_ or _how_ to love. No ears to be told what gender you have to love - no eyes to see physical differences. No knowledge of someone _else's_ moral code. You make love Davy and regardless of whether it's a male or female, if there is passion and love and caring involved it is _beautiful_! Our bodies were designed to experience the physical pleasure of lovemaking with a true partner. No gender barriers, no guilt - no bad karma. Just two people - _any_ two people - loving and tender to each other, and their bodies will respond like they were _meant_ to."  
    Tony had taken Davy's hands in his. They stared mutely into one another's eyes, a heat between them that Davy could neither fathom nor deny. Tony stood and leaned down, slowly drawing closer to his young counterpart. Davy trembled with fear, and an exhilaration he did not understand. As Tony bent and leaned in to him, Davy sat motionless, waiting for what he knew was coming.  
    Tony touched his lips to Davy's mouth very gently, but with the command of one in absolute control. He placed a hand on his small but muscled back and drew him to his feet, urging him against his own body. Davy stood quivering, but made no move to resist the older man's advances.  
    He felt an electricity he'd never experienced before - something animalistic that came alive in his blood, that both frightened and thrilled him inside. His stomach was doing flips. Tentatively he raised a hand and gingerly placed it on Tony's shoulder. Tony curled the fingers of his free hand into the soft thickness of Davy's hair, stroking gently, a soft moan rumbling in his throat. He probed against the sweetness of his would-be lovers lips, and was pleased to be permitted access. A quick slip of his tongue over Davy's silken palate and he retreated to have one last simple kiss.  
                                                                                       *****

   Micky, Mike and Peter climbed into the GTO, packed up and ready for their road trip. Destination: _Phoenix_.  
    " Weelll Micky ma boy," Mike drawled, "Yer grand n fateful adventure stretches before you. This day is the first day of a brand new beginning for you, and I for one would like to wish you the _luck_ of the Irish, the skill of the _ninja_ , a _bountiful reaping_ -"  
    "And two chickens in every pot!" Peter chimed in.  
    "You think we stand any chance of finding him Mike?" Micky asked, giving Peter an annoyed glance.  
    "Well good buddy it's like this - t'was once an old man lived over a thousand years ago by name of Hu Flung Poo - had a very wise old saying: He said ' Hoka no han dasu no shikkusu."  
    "… what in the _WORLD_ does that mean?"  
    "Six o one half a dozen of the other. "  
    "Gee _thanks_ Mike. Seriously, there’s a lot of ground to cover between Malibu and Phoenix.. you have a plan?"  
    "Yessiree I do. We'll show his pitchir to everybody every step o the way. We'll knock on the door of every cottage, cabin, castle, doghouse, henhouse and outhouse from here to Flagstaff!"  
    " _Phoenix_."  
    "That's right!"  
    Micky heaved a sigh, convinced they were doomed from the start.  
    "All kidding aside Mick, we're gonna stop at every gas station, cafe, market and saloon along the way. Sooner or later we're bound to come across _someone_ who's seen him. Don't worry man, we'll find him somehow, it's meant to be I just _feel_ it."  
                                                                                       *****  
    Tony left Davy alone for a while to go and prepare his lunch. He wanted also to give him some time to think about what had happened between them. When Tony left, his captive lover was calm, and even smiled at him as he walked out the door.  
    Davy sat on the side of the bed, his thoughts buzzing.  
           (Did that _really_ just happen? He _kissed_ me... I kissed him **_back_**!)  
    All of Tony's words rang through his head. Was he really conditioned to think the way that he did? Did society warp the mind to believe what it willed as upright and moral for everyone? He was so confused. The kiss they shared was tender and meaningful, and felt surprisingly nice - was it really _so wrong_? He had so many questions. The sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway told him he'd soon have his answers.  
    "Ready for lunch?" Tony asked cheerfully, pocketing the key after closing the door.  
    Davy nodded enthusiastically: He was _always_ ready to eat.  
    The attractive Italian laid a very large tray on the table. It held two covered plates, a large decanter of wine and two glasses.  
    "Be alright if I join you Davy? I'd like to talk for a while.. get to know each other some more."  
    "Oh - okay," Davy agreed, and he started toward the table.  
    "It's such a big tray, why don’t I just bring the plates over and we can sit on the bed," Tony slyly suggested.  
    Naively, Davy nodded in agreement.  
    Tony filled a tall crystal goblet with Chianti, accustomed to wine with every meal but breakfast, and handed him the glass. He poured one for himself and set it on the nightstand. He laid the plates in the center of the bed and settling on his side facing the handsome young man, lifted the silver lids to reveal a delectable Italian picnic lunch! An array of cheeses, salami, pastrami, olives and pepperoncini were nicely arranged on the first plate. The second held crusty bread, fresh fruit and a few assorted pastries. He placed a jar of dark grainy mustard next to the cheese plate and lay a spreading knife beside it.  
    "Buon Apetito," he gestured to the spread.  
    Davy cracked a grin at the charming display and helped himself. Tony ate lightly and slowly sipped his wine. They chatted casually while they ate and even managed a few laughs. Not used to the Italian custom, Davy had no head for the vino, and was quickly becoming pickled - just as Tony had intended. When they'd eaten their fill, Tony returned the plates to the tray and stretched himself out across the bed once again. Draining his third glass of wine, Davy did the same. A brief silence passed between them, then Tony spoke in silky tones.  
    "Are you _afraid_ of me Davy?"  
    Davy's heart began to beat faster. His throat felt dry and his tongue too thick for his mouth. Only seconds passed before he answered.  
    "… Ye-erm- _no_." he managed.  
    Tony smiled.  
    "You'd be stupid not to be - but _please, **don't**_ be."  
    A hard lump rose behind Davy's adams apple that he couldn't seem to swallow down. Tony closed the space between them, leaving only inches between their bodies. He brushed a lock of hair from Davy's forehead, causing him to gasp sharply.  
    "Kiddo, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm _crazy_ about you. I want to spoil you and love you - I want to teach you to _love yourself_ \- to accept your body and the _**amazing**_ way it was made to feel and react to another's touch and love. I want to _pleasure_ you."  
    He reached for the top button of Davy’s shirt. Keeping his sultry eyes locked with the young man's he carefully began to undo each button until all of the hot, taut flesh of his torso was revealed. Like a rabbit caught in the hunters sights, Davy lay wide-eyed in stark terror. Hey gave no consent, but neither could he move nor speak to stop what was happening. Tony removed the boyish man's shirt and lay him on his back. Hovering above him, he semi-pinned Davy with his hips, appraising the fine young body before him.  
    " _Please_ don't," Davy whispered.  
    "Relax Davy," Tony soothed, “nothing serious is going to happen. I just want to _explore_ you. Please, _trust_ me."  
    With Tony guiding him Davy lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Heated with desire Tony removed his own shirt. Gently caressing the boy's belly, he made quick work of undoing Davy's jeans and slid them down his athletic legs. The nearly naked young Englishman, covered in gooseflesh, trembled with both fear and awkward anticipation.  
    "Your body is _so perfect_ ," Tony said breathlessly.  
    Brushing his bare chest along Davy's flesh as he went, he moved up his body and faced his fledgling lover. Tracing his fingers along both nipples, he kissed Davy's plump warm lips hungrily. His hands, alive with a mind of their own, touched and explored every bank and crevice of the nubile body beneath him. Probing kisses and electric flicks of his skilled tongue brought a promising moan from the younger man. He moved southward, his hot breath caressing Davy's cloth-covered erection as he passed it and began kissing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He petted and stroked the hot young flesh until Davy's breath came in heavy pants. Tony drew down the cotton underwear revealing his pink and pulsing sex. In a confusing state of ecstasy and desire, Davy arched his back, a groan gurgling from deep in his chest.  
    Tony rubbed his hands up Davy's hips and across the thatch of wiry hair around his manhood. With just his thumb, he gingerly stroked a firm, gentle line up the front of his now throbbing erection. He grasped the head of Davy's shaft and gripped it in his sweaty palm, burning wet kisses onto his soft underbelly beside his groin. His free hand tracing along the lines of the youth's firm thigh, he tugged briefly at the tip of the trigger-ready love missile.  
    It was more than Davy could take. Emotionally strained and physically charged he clutched the sheets in both hands. He arched his firm abdomen upward, digging his heels into the mattress.  
    " _N-NOO_!," he howled -  
        But it was already upon him.  
    He came hard, Tony stoking it with a sensual lick to the crease between his thigh and scrotum. The agony and rapture combined in the moment was beyond anything he had ever experienced. With a final spurt of his hot juices, he shuddered hard and buried his face in the pillows.  
                                                                                       *****  
    The trio of musicians stopped in Palm Springs at a cafe called Bongo Johnny's for some lunch. They were half way to the Arizona state line, and after driving for nearly three hours in heavy traffic they were hungry and road-weary. Bathroom breaks were needed all around, a stretch of their long legs and some food to quell their growling stomachs. They piled into a corner booth and grabbed up some menus, eager to get something to eat.  
    "Would you _look at this_!" Mike let out a low whistle, "These prices are bigger than _Dallas_! Seven-fifty fer a dad-blame _cheeseburger_!"  
    " The chef's salad is _six ninety-nine_!" Mickey winced.  
    "Gosh!" Peter remarked, "a club sandwich and fries is _**eight dollars**_!"  
    "Well we gotta eat…" Mike conceded with a sigh, " we'll just hafta find cheaper places to eat from now on."  
    They ordered their food and water to drink, discussing their next step while they waited.  
    "Money is tight," Mike announced, "We should ought'a cross the state line by nightfall.. we don’t have enough to afford a motel room though."  
    Peter looked worried but thoughtful.  
    "We could sleep in the car at a rest area," he suggested.  
    "I dunno Cotton, that can be a might risky venture nowadays." Mike said, "nice try buddy. "  
    "I know!" Micky said excitedly, "I gotta friend lives in Yuma - just inside the state line - if I can get him on the phone I'm _sure_ we could stay there for the night!"  
    "Good thinking Mick ol buddy, we'll try him as soon as we get done eating and gas up the car."  
                                                                                       *****  
    "I'm coming into Tartron Arizona now," Brutal spoke into the phone, "I should make Yuma by nightfall."  
    "Don't be in such a bloody _rush_ you fool, that blasted boy is on foot or hitchhiking, he's _not_ going to make good time to Malibu. You've got to be sure to _ask after him_ along the way."  
    "I **_am_**. I'm not a _complete_ turnip Robyn. You wire the cash we discussed?"  
    "It's been sent - but you'll not get another _farthing_ from me till you produce that little wretch! _Understood_?"  
    "Yaa, I getcha."  
                                                                                       *****  
    Tony lay beside Davy, watching the younger man sleep. It took a deal of talking to calm him and relieve his anxiety over what had taken place. Finally, Davy seemed to accept and understand that his body had responded quite naturally, and that he had done nothing shameful or wrong. Careful not to wake the slumbering object of his affection, Tony crept off the bed and went downstairs. He got halfway to the kitchen and the phone rang.  
    "Hello?"  
    "Tony? It's _Micky_..."  
                                                                                      *****  
    Davy awoke in a slow cat-like stretch. The desk lamp was burning and soft shadows were beginning to fall from the approaching evening. Rubbing the sleep grains from his eyes, he padded across to the bathroom in bare feet. His business aside, he washed his hands glancing up into the mirror. The haunted, nervous, gaunt-faced boy that usually looked back at him was not here: Instead, meeting his gaze was a handsome young man, sleep disheveled, with a look of newfound serenity. No demons behind him - no fears of what hurt the next hours may bring.  
    Sitting at the table in his bedroom, he thought about Tony. He was fairly sure now that he wouldn't hurt him. Sure that if given no other choice he could learn to live with and even grow to _like_ his keeper, but knew he would never love him in the way that Tony had hoped. Not that he couldn't - his eyes and mind, even his young heart - had been opened to _so_ much - but the thrill, the magic spark that turned friendship to so much more wasn't there for him. He'd be eternally grateful for all that Tony had shown him, and his tenderness in Davy's time of pain was as great as that of any true friend. Somehow, though, he’d have to make him understand the way he felt. He may still be fated to a lifetime with this one - a relationship he would never be satisfied with - but he would be _honest_ from the start.  
                                                                                      *****  
    Seconds after hanging up with Micky, the phone rang again.  
           (Ok Mick what'd you forget?)  
    "Hello again," Tony answered with a grin.  
    "... Tone?"  
           ( _Oops_ )  
    "Yaa.. sorry, _who_ is this?"  
    "It's Brutal old buddy, _Brutal Larson_.. gonna be blowin' through town tonight and need a favor …"  
                                                                                      *****  
    "So, what'd yer pal Tony say?" Mike asked.  
    "He said no problem, he's even planning a late supper for all of us when we get there!"  
    "Well ain't that mighty _fine_ of him," Mike said with a smile.  
    Peter grinned.  
    "I'm starting to get a _REALLY_ good feeling about all of this," Micky said excitedly, "I feel like our luck is about to change. "  
                                                                                       *****

   Tony was at a loss as to what to do with Davy for the evening. He had hoped to finally bring him down from the attic that night, but wasn't sure it was a smart idea to flash a kidnapped runaway in front of so many people.  
        Especially _Brutal_.  
    They'd been friends for a long time, but he knew the man could be underhanded. Regardless, he had to figure a way to see to his four houseguests and still get some supper to Davy; that is if he didn't bring him to the table. He was going to need some help. He picked up the phone and dialed quickly.  
    "Hello?"  
    "Robbie - it's Tony. What are you doing tonight?"  
    "Nothin' really, what's up?"  
   "Some people are coming for dinner - and for the night. I'm concerned that something is gonna jump, and I may need some backup, can you be here?"  
    "Paisano, I'll be there in _twenty minutes_."


	4. Chapter 4

   Micky was totally psyched. He was a jangle of nervous energy inside, excited anticipation making him antsy. If not for his seat belt, he'd have been bouncing around the back seat like a pinball. He couldn't dismiss the feeling that something - some major breakthrough - lay waiting in the evening ahead. His instincts were good (my Italian-gypsy heritage he thought to himself) and rarely failed to be on the mark. Mike considered him in the rearview mirror with keen eyes.  
   "What's on your mind slick?" he asked.  
   Peter turned to the drummer, curiously.  
    "I …" Micky hesitated, trying not to sound stupid, "… _feel_ \- something - Something - **_alive_**. Like maybe destiny, pulling me - _us_ \- forward on an invisible line. Sounds _dumb_ when I say it out loud. "  
    "Not so dumb," Mike said, a glimmer in his wise eyes, " _I_ feel it too. "  
    "Micky," the usually quiet Peter spoke up, "I believe in fate. I believe that when someone is meant to come into your life - for whatever reason - the universe lends a hand. People think I'm strange because I meditate and well.. my ' _herbs_ '," he smiled,  "… but I find myself on a higher consciousness than most others, a place where my spirit is open to things most people can't ever _conceive_ of. Even in a dream."  
    Micky sat enthralled by the profound words coming from his friend, a friend he had always seen as dull-witted and a bit _out there_.. he was in awe and eager to hear more.  
    "Your love for this David has opened you up to that place. What you're feeling is real and the pulling sensation is not an illusion. I feel it too, something huge _is_ happening, something wonderful. You need to know this: You seldom get _anything_ good without fighting for it. Don't be afraid … but be prepared."  
    Peter turned with an honest and pure smile, once more facing the road in front of them. Micky let his words sink into his soul, a shiver of delight and slight trepidation shaking him briefly. The three boys traveled on in thoughtful silence.  
                                                                                       *****  
           (You're close you little slug I can _feel_ it)  
    Brutal felt a smug satisfaction as he neared the turnpike that would take him to Yuma. Something electric had been tingling his senses since he'd spoke to Tony and he felt as though he was moving toward an inevitable moment. His inept mind couldn't decipher these thoughts or the energy field that seemed to accompany them - but some basic instinct told him shit was about to hit the fan. So he was gonna be there, with a _scoop_.  
           (Seven thousand dollars.. It's practically mine. Like taking candy from a little _English baby_ heh-heh)  
                                                                                       *****  
    Davy paced the meager floor in his little room.  
           (Don' _like_ this … somethin's _**up**_ )  
    He felt it. In his soul. His body was restless, unable to sit still, his concentration flown out the window, he couldn't even work on the song he'd been writing. His now-empty stomach didn't even enter his thoughts.  
           (Get yer 'ead on tighter Jones - you're in for a nahsty ride alright - ya got ta be _sharp_!)  
    He took a deep breath and sighed, dropping onto the bed. Chin on his hands he mentally prepared for what he felt would be a very crucial night in his life.  
                                                                                      *****  
    Roberto Shapiro, Robbie to his friends, a Jewish-Italian wannabe lawyer, was on edge. Sharp-witted and of stout build, he was a good one to have around in a pinch. Tony was by no means a weak or dimwitted man in his opinion, so his call for help made alarm bells go off in his head. He dressed quickly and hopped in his brown Chevy van, making the fifteen-minute drive to his friend's large old family home. The details of the situation at hand running through his thoughts, he made mental notes about the individuals that would be present that evening: Who was a _threat_? Who would be _an ally_? So many possibilities.. all in all he knew though, he would protect his friend, as well as Tony's little amour, at any cost. They'd been through _too much_ together - them and Nicky - and would **_always_** have each other's back.  
                                                                                      *****  
    The guest rooms prepared, with Nicky's help Tony started to make dinner. He was preparing a delicious, traditional Italian meal: Lasagna Al Forno, Insalata di Roma salad with grilled shrimp, and had brought several bottles of a vintage Pinot Noir from the wine cellar. The table was laid with a damask cloth and his grandmother's bone china. Yellow roses from his own garden completed the setting in two antique crystal vases.  
    Nicky was in the kitchen - which divinely smelled of an Italian bistro - chopping eggs for the salad. Dean Martin on the stereo drifted in from the adjoining dining room and Tony sang "Arrevaderci Roma" absent-mindedly while he cooked. There was a knock at the back door.  
    "I've got it," Tony smiled at the young man.  
    It was Robbie.  
    "Buonjiorno!" Tony greeted his friend, hugging him briefly.  
    "How is everything?" Robbie asked with a single raised eyebrow.  
    "You're the first to arrive," Tony informed him, "Pinot Noir?"  
    "Not yet," he declined, it would be socially inept of me to not drink with everyone at dinner - I don't want to _over_ indulge."  
    Understanding Robbie's intention to stay sharp, Tony nodded his assent.  
    "Some coffee?" he offered.  
    " _That_ I'll take," Robbie smiled and took a seat at the cozy breakfast nook.  
    "Nicky, you're looking well - how are you?"  
    "I'm doing great Robbie, thanks. How are things?"  
    "Very good; interesting as always kiddo."  
    Nicky turned to Tony with his finished salad.  
    "So.. Does it look right?"  
    Tony gave it a cursory glance and grinned.  
    "Nicky it looks **_fabulous_**! Cover it and put it in the refrigerator till I grill the shrimp - you're going to be an _amazing cook_!"  
    Pleased, Nicky beamed with pride. He tucked his masterpiece into the Frigidaire and washed his hands.  
    "Mi amio," Tony spoke up, "Would you mind excusing us for a bit? We have some.. _business_ to discuss…"  
    "Sure, no problem." Nicky smiled, and promptly disappeared.  
    "So," Robbie asked in hushed tones. " _What's the plan_?"  
                                                                                       *****  
    Left to his own devices Davy had finally settled down a bit and managed to focus on his song.  
           (Be _so_ much easier if I had my guitar)  
    Of course, he didn't want to think about that - Robyn had smashed it to bits in a rage a short time ago, breaking Davy's heart and temporarily his spirits.  
           (So you think you've got talent you little minion? Let's see you make something without your precious guitar!)  
        **_CLANG - SPROING_**  
            Splinters and strings...  
                 _Firewood_  
           (Ahh well Jones.. _someday_ you'll getcha self anothah) he sighed.  
    His thoughts were interrupted by a great rumbling noise - coming from his stomach. He patted it gently and looked up at the clock. Seven forty-four: _Well_ past their normal dinner hour. The pesky little panic animal inside him raised its head and looked around. It's infectious thought process shooting straight up to Davy's brain  
           ( _Don't_ .. He wouldn't **_do_** that to you)  
    His stomach did a flip and made another groan.  
           (Never thought Robyn would either, _didja_ )  
    "Don't do this - there's a _reason_ why he's late with yer suppah.” he said aloud, in an effort to reason himself calmer.  
           _**(Pfffft)**_  
    The panic animal grew a new pair of wings.  
        (Stop it Jones, he'll _be_ here. _**HE**_ cares about you … he _won't_ starve you)  
    He went in the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. The shock of it brought his senses around and he felt calmer. Back on his bed he gave the situation careful scrutiny. A stillness came over him, a knowing of universal proportion - that all was well - and would _only_ grow better. Patience and trust must be his armor, his guides. He settled onto his pillows and without meaning to, drifted off to sleep.  
                                                                                      *****  
    Brutal was the first to arrive. He rang the bell at the front door and both of his old friends welcomed him inside. The three men gathered in Tony's front parlor where a fire had been prepared earlier that evening. It crackled merrily behind the grate as the fellows caught up with one another's lives. Always one to brag on his latest big scheme, Brutal pulled a photograph from his shirt pocket.  
    "I'm 'bout to be _several grand_ better off boys," he boasted, sipping his wine and fanning himself with the photo.  
    "Oh?" Tony asked, " _How so_?"  
    "I'm being paid _very_ well to track down a runaway kid."  
    Robbie shot Tony a look of caution: Be casual, do _not_ react.  
    "Really?" Tony said calmly, his heart pounding, "any good leads?"  
    "Not yet," Brutal replied, "but I know where he's heading and have a feeling I'm closing in on the little slug. Got a pic of his slimy ass with me, take a look."  
    He handed Tony the snapshot and he and Robbie leaned in together to look it over.  
    There on paper, handsome as ever, was the young Englishman they had kidnapped together only weeks before. Both men kept their cool, giving the photo a good once-over.  
    "Nice looking kid," Tony said handing Brutal his picture, "not a local I assume. "  
    To his relief he had succeeded in sounding quite casual.  
    "Naa, comes from the Phoenix area - he's making his way toward Malibu. Guessin' you guys haven't seen him then."  
    "No," they both replied, sipping their coffee and shaking their heads.  
    "I'll be going into Guadalajara in a couple of days," Robbie lied, "any chance I should look while I'm there?"  
    " _Doubt_ he'll be over the border," Brutal reasoned, "but if ya keep your eyes peeled I'd ' _preciate_ it. "  
    The conversation drifted to other things and Tony found an opportunity to excuse himself to check on dinner. He located Nicky, speaking to him in secretive tones, then hurried into the kitchen. Just as he opened the oven there was a knock at the back door.  
                                                                                       *****  
    Davy heard footsteps in the hallway, but knew they sounded different. His radar up, he perched nervously on the side of his bed. The key turned in the lock and the door swung open. A young man of slight build came into the room, closing the door and locking it back. A calm came over Davy that he didn't understand, and a vague sense of familiarity fluttered through the recesses of his mind.  
    "David," the other man began, "we haven't really met yet - I'm," he hesitated, " - I'm Tony's younger brother, Nicky."  
    Davy nodded.  
    "Some things are going on downstairs right now, and Tony asked me to come and check on you. Are you doing okay?"  
    Again, a silent nervous nod.  
    "He wanted me to let you know that everything is alright, and that it's going to be late but he'll be sending me up in a while with some dinner for you. I brought you this to hold you over."  
    Nicky pulled an apple and a stick of beef jerky from his pocket and handed them to Davy. The clear relief on his features brought a smile to Nicky's face. He turned to leave and as he put the key in place, Davy found his voice.  
    "Th-thank you Nicky," he stuttered.  
    " _Anytime_ ," Nicky smiled, and left the room.  
    Davy devoured the timely snack and smiled, feeling reassured. He wondered what was happening below him, knowing it was pointless to try to wade through the countless possibilities. His thoughts turned to the quiet, unassuming young messenger: Tony's brother Nicky. He knew they had never met before, but something about the soft-eyed, gentle young man yanked at his gut - as if calling up a distant and pleasant dream. Perplexed, he decided to dismiss it as just another confusing aspect of his current dilemma.  
                                                                                      *****  
    " **Micky**!" Tony cried, hugging his old chum.  
    "Tonio! It's been _WAY_ too long babe!" Micky grinned broadly.  
    "Come in, come in!" Tony invited them, "Welcome to mia casa mi amicis. _Please_ , make yourselves at home."  
    "Tony," Micky began the introductions, "These are my very good friends Mike Nesmith and Peter Tork. Mike, Pete - Tony Martinelli - one of my oldest and dearest friends."  
    The three exchanged handshakes and friendly nods.  
    "Something smells _wonderful_ ," Peter complimented on the heavenly aroma.  
    "I'll say," Mike added, "best be beatin' the hogs to _this_ trough."  
    "Tony is an _**AMAZING**_ cook," Micky chimed in, "and by the smell of things man you've outdone yourself tonight."  
    "Grazie," Tony blushed politely at Micky's bragging, "Come, Nicky here will show you to your room."  
    As the boys followed their young guide through the dining room, Tony caught Micky lightly by the elbow.  
    "Mick.. need a word with you - _alone_. It's important. "  
    "Sure babe, _what's up_?"  
                                                                                      *****  
    Dinner was a huge success. The food was fabulous, the wine plentiful - the conversation light with laughter, the music a delightful, colorful backdrop to the gathering. The six men were ideally suited to keep company with one another, with perhaps one exception: _Brutal_.  
    Though Tony, Micky, Robbie and Brutal had known each other for many years, the would-be thug was classless and inept. He stood immoderately out from the other five men: His laugh was loud and boisterous, his jokes and comments crude and often disconcerting. Unbathed and in poor dress, his very presence made the others uncomfortable. Everyone felt it, except of course _Brutal_.  
    Mike and Peter, new to the group of old friends, fit themselves in like missing parts to a great machine - well oiled, smooth and refined. They were openly accepted as one of the pack - _brothers, trusted,_ _protected_. The group had been sipping the marvelous wine throughout the evening, and while relaxed, none was even tipsy. None that is but _Brutal Larson_. Slovenly slamming back the fine Pinot Noir like a cheap Ripple, he’d quickly and clearly had too much to drink. Slurring his speech and stumbling on his feet the drunken man was attempting to propose a toast.  
    "To my fwends," he fumbled, "old n new."  
    Micky and the others waited nervously, eager for Brutal to regain his seat fearing he would pass out at any moment. Tony watched, edgily in his chair. Brutal continued.  
   "May you all be as _disguzzingly fugging wich_ as I'm abboutta be. **_Salud_**!"  
    He raised his glass to toast his fellows and suddenly pitched forward, his knees buckling under him. Fast as a flash, Robbie and Tony were there, catching the bigger man before he could smash face first into the glass coffee table. Micky let out a yelp, and poor timid Peter cringed into Mike's shoulder on the small love seat they shared.  
    "Ok buddy boy looks like it's bedtime," Tony joked through the strain of Brutal's dead weight, "Micky, a little _help_ please?"  
    The three men carried the big ox that was their old pal into his room and plopped him down onto the bed. They paused only a moment, each considering the sad state that had become of their once-good friend.  
    Back in the parlor, the fire was dying down to embers. Peter, still tucked into the protection of Mike's wing had dozed off. Absent-mindedly, his lover was stroking his sandy hair. Silence stretched for a few minutes and Mike spoke up.  
    "Tony, it has been a _wonderful_ evening n I'd like to thank you fer alla your hospitality."  
    "It's been my distinct pleasure Mike," Tony genuinely smiled.  
    "I b’lieve I oughtta be taking ol sleepy head here on into bed …" Mike trailed off.  
    Recognizing the situation between Mike and Pete for what it was, Tony graciously  
bid them good night.  
    "Yes, by all means - you've all had a long day's journey. Can you find your way alright?"  
    "Yessirree, thank you kindly."  
    Mike gently shook Peter awake and walked his drowsy lover to their room.  
    "I'll be there in a jiff," Micky called.  
    When they were behind closed doors, fully out of earshot, Micky turned to his host.  
    "Ok Antonio, _spill it_."  
                                                                                                      _*_  
    Davy waited patiently for Nicky to come back. He was happily rewarded with the most amazing meal he'd had so far and the smoothest wine he'd ever tasted.  
        To say _nothing_ of the company.  
    For his own protection, Tony forbid Nicky from the dinner table that night. Davy accepted Nicky's request to share their meal and the two sat in relative silence enjoying their food. Davy was the first to break the ice.  
    "This is _AMAZING_! Who does the cooking 'round 'ere?"  
    "Mostly Tony," Nicky replied, "but I'm learning - I made the _salad_."  
    " **Wow**!" Davy said, honestly impressed, "You did a _smashing_ job of it - right good stuff _'at_ was."  
    "Thank you."  
    Nicky smiled at the man's delicious accent, the charming dialect wrapping around his eardrums in a warm and fuzzy fashion.  
    "So, you're not from around here, _are_ you?"  
    "Wha'?" Davy chuckled, feigning surprise, "Ya mean _me_? Wha'ever put a spin li'e _that_ on ya tires?"  
    They laughed easily together, smiles in their eyes.  
    "So, where _are_ you from?" Nicky pursued.  
    " _Well_ … " (fukkit) "Most recently Phoenix … but I was born n raised in _England_."  
    Nicky nodded.  
    "Nice place - s- _so I've heard_ …" Nicky stammered.  
    "It is," Davy said, a prickly feeling creeping over him.  
    "You 'ave an.. interesting - _accent_ \- yerself," Davy mentioned, "come by 'at round _'ere_ didja?"  
    "No," Nicky laughed, "It comes from - well - everywhere, _nowhere_. I moved around a lot growing up. Jersey, New York, L.A. - South Philly … "  
    "I _**LOVE**_ New York! Visited there once a few years back!" Davy Beamed.  
    A few glasses of wine later and the two young men were laughing and talking as if they'd been friends all their lives. Without discussing it, they'd both found an intense connection that was undeniable - not of a sensual nature - but one of camaraderie, of brotherhood. A feeling so inborn in them it was eerie. Nicky looked at the clock: The evening had slipped away quickly, it was now one am.  
    "I'm sorry David," he stood suddenly, "I _really_ have to go now.. Tony is going to **flip**!"  
    Unable to hide his disappointment, Davy nodded weakly.  
    "Will you come 'round _s'more_?" he asked hopefully.  
    Nicky gathered the dinner tray giving him a genuine smile.  
    "If I can, then absolutely. I've _really_ enjoyed this!"  
    Their eyes met briefly, and then he was gone.  
                                                                                      *****  
    Micky lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He knew he needed to sleep, but was so wide-awake he thought he might never sleep again. He and Tony's conversation resounded in his head.  
           ( _Brutal.. Searching.. Runaway.. Secret …_ )  
    His head was spinning.  
    Tony made it clear he wasn't comfortable talking further until Brutal had left in the morning, and that he and Micky would talk then. He wanted him and the guys to stay on another day, having something important to talk to him about in great detail.  
        It was going to be a long, long night.  
                                                                                       *****  
        Three am.  
    Davy awoke with a start, realizing he was not alone. Groggily he swiped at his eyes, straining to see in the darkness.  
    " _Relax_ kiddo," Tony said softly, "it's just me. "  
    Davy released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding in a great gush.  
    "You liked to frighten me outta me _wits_!" he whispered.  
    "Didn't mean to," Tony chuckled lightly, "I _had_ to see you."  
    Davy nodded silently. Reaching across the table, Tony turned on the lamp.  
    "I'm sorry about earlier, _supper_ and all."  
    "A bit late," Davy Shrugged, "but it was _smashin_ g!"  
    "Glad you liked it - my grandmother's recipe. I'm sorry you ate alone tonight "  
    "Oh, but I _didn't_ \- Nicky, h-he stayed and ate with me. He.. he forgot the shackles 'fore he left …" Davy swallowed.  
    "No more shackles." Tony stated flatly. Davy raised an eyebrow.  
    "If you love something, set it free ..." Tony quoted smiling.  
    Davy looked surprised.  
    "I was hoping - _planning_ that is - to bring you downstairs last night Davy. Some.. things came up - kind of spoiled it a bit. I think we're both ready for you to move into my room. It'll be a day or so, as I still have company, but .. _what is it_?"  
    Little by little, the color had drained from Davy's face. His eyes were like saucers, his small but masculine hands trembled in his lap. He knew it was now or never, whether he would accept it or not, he had to tell Tony how he felt - or rather didn't feel - toward him. He took a breath and began.  
    "Tony, I .. I _like_ you. I think yer a right swell chap, n you’ve been _very_ kind to me. These pahst few weeks you've done me right bettah than Robyn 'as in eleven years."  
    Tony smiled.  
    "I've 'ad more to eat 'ere in a week than in a month o' _Sundays_ at 'ome. You've been very generous and gracious to me.. n, well you've shown me things I'd never understood before, about _love_."  
Tony's heart hammered in his chest. He had a distinct and painful surety as to what was coming next.  
    " _However_ ," he began for Davy.  
    ".. 'owever, Davy spoke softly, "I - I jus' _don't 'ave_ it fer ya. The friendship, _that_ kind of closeness, I could see it grow between us, but … I'll _never_ \- "  
    " ** _Love_** me." Tony finished.  
    The sincere sadness Davy felt for hurting this man was apparent in his golden-brown eyes, eyes that pleaded for understanding and compassionate release from these bonds of love. They stared at each other silently, one apologetic and hopeful, the other hurt and unsure of what to do. Tony finally broke the deafening silence.  
    "I'm going to go to bed now kiddo," Tony said sadly, "I have a lot to figure out, a lot to think about."  
He rose from the bed, and turning off the light, left without another word. Uncertain of what tomorrow held, Davy lay back stricken with a gut-wrenching dread. Fat tears streaming silently down his cheeks, he drifted into a restless sleep.  
                                                                                       *****  
   Morning came none too quickly for Micky, and all too quickly for Tony and Brutal. Tony was surprised to find Micky in the kitchen brewing fresh coffee when he came downstairs.  
   "Morning," Tony said, a little caught off guard.  
   "Morning, hope you don't mind," Micky said, pointing to the coffee maker.  
   "Not a bit _Michael_. "  
   Micky blushed at the old familiarity, one that only _Tony_ could get away with or expect a response from.  
   "From the looks of old Brutal last night you couldn't start it brewing soon enough." Tony quipped.  
   "Or **_strong_** enough," Micky added, shaking his head.  
   "Am I missing the party?" Robbie said as he entered the room, "coffee smells _wonderful_."  
   The three men sat at the table sipping the heavenly brew at their leisure, quietly enjoying each other's company. Micky gave pause to his insatiable need to know what Tony had to tell him, choosing to simply relish this moment with old friends. Peter drifted into the kitchen with Mike at his heels. Seconds after, a bleary-eyed Nicky appeared behind them. The younger man poured them each a steaming cup and proceeded to make another pot.  
    "Hope you both slept well," Tony greeted the sleepy-headed pair.  
    " _Very_ , thanks." Mike offered.  
Peter broke a sultry grin, Mike elbowing him quietly in the ribs. Tony, wishing for his new friends to feel at ease, made a simple statement.  
    "It's _really_ okay guys, I swing that way _too_."  
    Mike nodded and took a seat. Peter slid in beside him, clasping his hand and snuggling against his shoulder.  
    "I don't," Robbie spoke up, "But you're among friends now - be who you are, you're safe _and accepted_ here."  
    "That's mighty fine of you both," Mike said, a lump in his throat, "we accept your friendship and are honored to offer the same. It's very good _indeed_ to be oneself."  
    Peter smiled again, still in a sleepy fog.  
    An offensive and foul odor permeated the air suddenly. The men looked from one to the other, soon discovering the source.  
    "Morning Brutal," Tony spoke.  
   The nasty bear of a man grunted his greeting, breaking wind as he took a seat among them. Nicky's eyes began to water.  
    "Tony?"  
    "Yes Nicky, mi amor?"  
    May I take some breakfast - and go - upstairs?"  
    Instantly catching his drift ( _must feed David_!) Tony nodded and gave his okay. Nicky quietly set about filling a tray with a fruit and pastry breakfast for two and made his way upstairs.  
    Tony filled Brutal with several cups of strong coffee and set about his plan to send the man on his way, politely but quickly.  A while later, when Brutal had finally pulled out of sight, Micky clapped a hand on Tony's shoulder.  
    " _How!_ " Micky asked in amazement, "How did you get him to leave _so **quickly**_?"  
    "Simple," Tony grinned, throwing an arm around Micky's shoulder, "I flipped him a fifty and said breakfast was _on me_."  
    The two walked into the house cackling hysterically. Back inside, Micky spoke briefly with Mike and Peter. While he, Tony and Robbie met privately, Tony invited them to freely explore the grounds, most particularly his Victorian Garden, designed by himself - especially for lovers. They happily accepted, leaving out arm in arm. Once closed behind the library doors, Tony spoke openly to Micky on what he and Robbie had done. Micky listened, without judgment, as his friend agonized over nameless, kidnapped young men and unrequited love.  
    "I want him _so badly_ ," Tony finished up, "but I want him _happy_ too."  
    "I understand my friend," Micky sympathized wistfully, "you see, I'm in love with someone too. But he -"  
    Tony's head snapped up at Micky's revelation.  
    "That's right," Micky blushed, " _he_ \- has no idea.  
    "Why haven't you told him?" he asked with a grin. "You'll never know what chance you have at love amici if you don't try."  
    "That's kinda hard .. We've _never met_."  
    Tony looked puzzled: Micky ventured on.  
    "You see it's like this, I have his picture in my pocket. I think about him _all_ the time - He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and all I want to do is find him and hold him and love him - and _never_ let go!"  
    "Mick," Tony began, " _Listen_ to yourself! How can you _possibly_ think you're in **_love_** with somebody you've never actually met?!"  
    As soon as he had said the words, he realized his mistake.  
        He had just described the very situation he himself had started in.  
    "Forget I said that," he laughed, "please, _tell me more_."  
    Micky went on for nearly an hour, a light in his eyes that burned from within, as he described the emotions he felt just thinking of his 'little one'. Unable to eat, sleep or function properly since he'd seen his face, he knew he had to find him - or simply _die_ of a broken heart.  
    "You wanna see him?" Micky asked dreamily.  
    "Of course."  
    He pulled his precious picture from his shirt pocket, and gazed at it lovingly.  
   " **THIS** is my _little one_!"  
    Handing Tony the photo of Davy he sat back with anticipation.  
                                                                                       *****  
    Nicky had barely made it through breakfast and a game of checkers with Davy when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He read, then re-read the message, mouth agape. The stunned expression on his face caught Davy's attention.  
    "Everything alright mate?"  
    "Y-yes," Nicky said, "just a message from Tony. I'm to have you wash and dress in your blue shirt and jeans, and bring you downstairs in thirty minutes."  
    Not knowing what to expect, Davy swallowed the annoying lump that had again taken up residence in his throat. Sensing his anxiety, Nicky touched his hand.  
    "Its going to be okay," he smiled warmly, "Just relax, he _really is_ a good guy."  
    Davy nodded weakly, and obediently went to bathe.


	5. Chapter 5

          (If you love something, _set it free_ ) 

    Tony took a deep breath and blew it out hard, hoping to clear his head. He and Micky were strolling the grounds, having left the others at breakfast in the kitchen. He had to speak to his dearest friend alone. When they came to the gazebo, Tony pointed inside and Micky took a seat. Face to face, Tony began his most difficult journey ever.  
    "Michael - mi amici - do you recall that _God-awful_ day in L.A.?"  
   Micky nodded silently.  
          (How could I _EVER forget_ )  
    "That day," Tony went on, "you gave the two greatest gifts anyone has ever given me in my life. **_Ever_**."  
    Tears welled in Micky's dark, almond eyes.  
    "Not only did you save _my_ life that day Amici, you saved mi piccolo amore - **_my precious Nicky_**!"  
    "I'd do it again - _any day_." Micky whispered, Tony's hands gripped tightly in his own, "You're the brother I never had, my _best friend_!"  
    "You nearly died for us mi amici. It has always been my hope to do something for you - something _wonderful_ \- though surely I could never come close to repaying you, today I begin to try. Come back into the house with me, I have a very special surprise for you."

   Once inside, Tony directed Micky to dress in his best shirt and comb his hair. He came to him moments later and patted both cheeks with his finest cologne, leading him to the parlor where the others waited.  
    "Sit Micky and relax, it will only be a moment."  
   Perplexed, Micky sat on the edge of his seat. The pulling sensation he'd felt in the car was dragging his guts out now. His heart was ready to beat through his chest wall. Tony smiled sweetly at his companion, inwardly tickled at his nervous excitement.  
                                                                                       *****  
   Nicky unlocked the door and led Davy into the hallway. Two flights of stairs were before them and Davy took them carefully on watery knees. His heart beat like that of a trapped animal, but he moved bravely ahead following where Nicky led him. The foyer opened into a large, lovely dining room that opened into another room on each side.  
    "This way David," Nicky urged gently, turning to the right.  
   Micky sat pensive, jiggling a leg. He could hear two sets of footsteps approaching from the dining room, and the apprehension grew into an excitement, the fateful pulling feeling stronger than ever before. Tony stood and placed a hand on his trembling shoulder, a wistful smile on his face. Nicky stepped into the room and off to one side - and Micky couldn't believe his eyes.  
        There before him, just behind Nicky, stood his little one.  
   He stood slowly, his mouth open, unable to believe what he was seeing. A slow smile spread across his face as he took a step toward him, praying it wasn't an illusion. Tony stepped up placing a calming hand on Davy's shoulder, as he stood confused and trembling, not knowing what to expect.  
   "David," he said, dropping the casually familiar 'Davy', "I'd like for you to meet my very _best_ friend, this is Micky Dolenz. Micky, _David Jones_."  
   Nicky looked up sharply gaping at Davy. He backed up a step, looking from Davy to Tony, then ran from the room and up the stairs. Excusing himself, Tony hurried away to see what was wrong with his young friend. Micky shook himself out of his star struck daze and extended his hand to Davy.  
    "Hello!" Micky breathed, "it's so nice to _FINALLY_ meet you!"  
    "Hi," Davy said softly, bashfully, "how are you?"  
    The two young men stood staring into each other's faces, still holding one another's hands. A palpable silence full of sparks hung between them, as they seemed to search each other’s very souls. Hands still connected, they made their way to the sofa and sat nearly knee to knee.  
    Davy was captivated by the dark-haired, slim man beside him. His tenor-pitched voice curled around him, sliding over his eardrums deliciously. His wide-set almond shaped eyes were the color of rich cherry wood with lovely green-gold flecks - hazel he believed they called it. His slender lips, a delicate, pale rose color, seemed soft and kissable. His angular face was pleasant and friendly, dark, wavy hair haloing his head.  
    He looked at the hand he held in his own: Cleanly trimmed nails tipped the long fingers. The large, firm palms were warm but not clammy, feeling strong and protective. His gaze traveled to Micky's lean body. A slight vee-shape gave definition to his upper torso and his shoulders were wide-set and solid. A lean tummy led to narrow hips and legs as long as the London Bridge. He looked again to Micky's face. He was grinning like an idiot, which made Davy smile, putting him even more at ease.  
    "I've been so anxious to meet you - and so _worried_ about you!" Micky began, "How _are_ you? Are you - But _GOD_ you're just.. **GORGEOUS**!"  
    " _Ahehehem_." Mike cleared his throat.  
   "Where's my brain," Micky laughed.  
   He stood excitedly, bringing Davy to his feet.  
   "David, these are our friends - _my_ friends - your's _too_ now.. I -"  
   "Hello my name is Mike, Mike Nesmith. This here is Peter Tork," Mike assisted.  
   "That's what I was _trying_ to say." Micky reddened, "these are my roommates.  
   "Oh 'ello," Davy said shyly, "pleased to meet yas."  
   "It's nice to meet you David!" Peter beamed a radiant smile.  
   "Say," Micky suggested, "you wanna take a walk around?"  
   "I - I sh-should _really_ ahsk permission, Tony - 'e.. well 'e doesn't like me to go.. outside"  
   "Don't worry 'bout Tony, he won't care - as long as you're with _me_!" Micky assured  
   "Okay then, i-if yer sure," Davy nodded, smiling.  
   They left out the front door arm in arm, chatting softly as if they were the closest of old friends.  
                                                                                      *****  
    Tony knocked on the door to Nicky's room. Without waiting for a reply, he stepped inside to find the younger man sitting on the large ledge of the bay window. Staring outside, his knees drawn to his chest, fresh tears stained Nicky's youthful face.  
   "Tutto bene il mi piccolo amore?"  
   "Yes, I'm fine."  
   "What was it, tell me?"  
   Nicky took a moment to compose himself. Without turning around, he spoke in a low voice.  
   "It - it caught me off guard. When you said his name? I didn't know it and ... "  
   A fresh, hot tear trickled down his smooth cheek. Tony waited patiently, stroking his back lightly.  
  "H-his _name_ , it's the same, the same as my brother that died _so many_ years ago. The accent, those golden brown, honey-colored eyes, the gentle smile.. I f-feel like I'm b-being.. _haunted_."  
   With these last words Nicky's heart finally broke, and he fell sobbing into Tony's ever-present arms. Tony held him close until his cries died into soft, hiccupping whimpers. Carrying him to his bed, he sat beside him, stroking his forehead until he fell into a peaceful slumber. In the hallway, Tony steeled his emotions: He knew what must be done, for Nicky’s sake, for Davy's, and for everyone's best interests.  
                                                                                      *****  
   Down in the parlor Micky and Davy were just coming back from a walk in the garden, hand-in-hand. Tony walked brisk and tall into the room and took his startled captive by the wrist.  
   "Come with me David," he said brusquely, "we need to talk, _privately_ "  
   Somewhat fearful but ever obedient, Davy silently followed Tony to the library. Micky, stunned and confused, stared after them feeling immediately the loss of David's presence. He paced the room nervously awaiting their return.  
   Once in the library Tony closed and locked the door. He sat in one of the wingback chairs, directing Davy to take the other. They sat across from one another looking into each other's tortured eyes.  
   "Davy, you know _very well_ how I feel about you."  
   Eyes wide, heart in his throat, all Davy could do was nod.  
   "I too, know how you feel about the situation, so that leaves us in a rather difficult position. It's also rather clear that you and Micky have quickly become somewhat - _enamored_ of each other."  
    Panicked, Davy began to object, but Tony held up his hand.  
    " **STOP**! I am _okay_ with that. If I cannot have your love Davy, I _can_ have your happiness. Micky is very important to me, as are you. He loved you dearly before he met you, cherishing you as much as I do. I will not stand in the way."  
   Davy was flabbergasted, his mouth agape, eyes wide in amazement. His heart raced again, but this time in hopeful excitement.  
   "I want you to go to your room and pack all of your things, take with you the things I've bought for you kiddo, they were gifts. Your bags are already waiting on your bed. When you've finished come back to the parlor. I'll have your wallet and cell phone ready, you'll need them when you leave for Malibu."  
    Davy sat stunned, unable to believe his ears - to truly believe that freedom would be his. Then with a sudden overwhelming relief, it all sank in: He was leaving _today_ \- with Micky - for _**Malibu Beach**_!  
   "I - I don't know what to _say.._ how to.. to **thank** you."  
   Tony smiled a wry grin.  
   "You want to thank me Davy? Hire a lawyer and be rid of that guardian of yours."  
   Davy nodded.  
   They hugged like old friends would do and Davy hurried off to pack. Tony, with a heavy heart, went to Micky with the news of his decision.  
                                                                                      *****  
   Thirty minutes later Tony stood in his driveway saying his goodbyes. He pulled Micky aside and handed him an envelope.  
   "What's this Tonio?"  
   "Before you object, hear me out old friend: Its twenty-five hundred dollars - a little something to take care of you three and your little one till you all get back on your feet. There is another two grand to hire an attorney.. get rid of that _Robyn_ guy ASAP. Please, _don't_ say no."  
   Shocked to tears, Micky could only hug his dear friend. He stood to the side of the car so that Tony could have a moment alone with Davy. Facing each other in the golden afternoon sun, both with a renewed sense of peace, Tony gently stroked Davy's cheek with his finger.  
    "I'm gonna miss you kiddo," Tony said whispered wistfully, "you're a _hard one_ to let go of."  
    "I'll never forget everything you've done for me," Davy said with heartfelt honesty.  
    They hugged lightly and said goodbye, and Tony ruffling Davy's chocolaty mop said, "You be good!"  
    Davy got in the back seat of the GTO beside Micky, and Mike started up the motor. Tony stood and waved them off until they were gone from sight. Head down, hands in his pockets he made his way back inside.  
    He went to the attic room that still smelled of the young man that had just vacated it. He touched the pillow where a single brown hair lay in testimony to the sweet-faced youth that had laid his head to rest there. He sat down at the side table and found the sheet music Davy had left behind for him: Although he smiled, his heart broke. Through his tears, he read:  
  
                                                                         **_I wanna be free,_**  
**_Like the bluebird flying by me,_**  
**_Like the waves out on the blue sea,_**  
**_If your love has to tie me, don't try me -_**  
**_Say goodbye …_**

   He could read no more. He lay on the coconut shampoo-scented pillow, clutching the papers to his breast and cried himself to sleep.  
                                                                               *  
    The boys made their way back toward the highway to set out for Malibu. Waiting their turn to merge onto the road, Mike took a moment to glance at the new love blooming in the back seat.  
    "Tell me little one," Micky purred to Davy, "what I can do to make you happy - just _name_ it and I'll go to the ends of the earth to make it happen."  
    Davy ducked his head shyly and looked at his own knees. Micky wrapped him in his arms and placed on his lips their first tender kiss. Nuzzling his nose into Davy's soft brown hair, Micky spoke again sweetly.  
    "Really babe, what can I do to make you happy?"  
    Davy looked into his adoring eyes and smiled softly.  
    "It’s been a long, _long_ road Micky, just _take me home_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to:  
> Philipe  
> Jean  
> Ash  
> G-spot  
> Luce  
> Bev  
> Ms F  
> The Stay-puff Marshmallow Man


End file.
